


i will find any way to your wild heart

by buddiebuddie



Series: white house AU [2]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Diaz Family Feels, Emotional Eddie Diaz, Fluff, Hurt Christopher Diaz, M/M, President Evan Buckley, Protective Evan "Buck" Buckley, Special Agent Eddie Diaz, White House AU, Worried Eddie Diaz, Worried Evan "Buck" Buckley, alternative universe, buckley sibling banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:00:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23765002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buddiebuddie/pseuds/buddiebuddie
Summary: "What you’re doing for this country is far bigger and far more important than anything you and I could ever want,” Eddie says. “There might be days where we’re miserable, but we’ll be miserable for America. For our families and our friends. For our neighbors and our kids and our kids’ kids who are all going to live a better life because you were here to shape the way. So we wait.”“What if–”“I’m not going anywhere,” Eddie cuts in before Buck can get the words out. He presses a kiss to Buck’s lips. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”Buck is the president, Eddie is his Secret Service agent, neither can keep his hands to himself, AND the whole world now knows they’re together. Sequel to "you make me feel it"
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: white house AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677313
Comments: 158
Kudos: 466





	1. everything has changed and now it’s only you that matters

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to my fic "you make me feel it." I do recommend reading that first as this picks up right where we left off! 
> 
> title from wild heart by bleachers. tags will be updated as we go if there's anything important to add :)

"Continue to believe in me, continue to believe in the power of America and its people, and continue to believe in love. Thank you. God bless the United States of America.” Buck raises his hand in a wave, some combination of relief, adoration, and immense gratitude rushing over him as he looks out to the sea of wide smiles, happy tears, and deafening applause. 

The downside to having such an incredible team of Secret Service agents is that they plan out nearly every step Buck takes when he’s outside the bubble of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Today being one of those moments outside the bubble, he knows he’s supposed to exit stage left and reconvene with his team backstage. But Eddie’s standing stage right and all he wants right now, more than anything, is to cross the stage and wrap his arms around the man he loves. 

Alas, he knows that deviating from the Secret Service’s instructions and using a different exit without warning will tick the agents off, and he’s not trying to give Eddie an aneurysm before they get their happily ever after. So, he exits stage left as he’s meant to, since love is about sacrifice, right? Waving one last time at the crowd, he descends the stairs at record speed. 

Eddie, it just so happens, has all but flown down the steps on his side of the stage, weaving through the small cluster of people waiting on the grass behind the stage.

Buck all but throws his mic pack at Maddie, the thin wires tangling around his fingers as he tries to hand it off as quickly as possible. And then he turns and sees Eddie stepping past a small group of campaign staffers and for a second they both freeze as their eyes meet. 

Eddie isn’t sure who moves first, but in a split second Buck’s arms are around him, and everything stops. The voices of the crowd as they file out of the park, the loud music playing over the speakers on the stage, the sounds of keyboards clicking and people chattering backstage – all of it disappears as Eddie buries his face in Buck’s neck, breathing in the familiar scent. 

It’s like the world stops spinning for a second, halted on its axis and frozen in place long enough for the two of them to just _be_ in this perfect moment. 

“I love you,” Eddie murmurs against Buck’s skin. “God, that was incredible.” He pulls back, meeting Buck’s eyes with his own. “You’re incredible.” 

Buck leans in, closing the distance as their lips meet in a kiss. Sure there are a dozen people nearby, but he couldn’t give less of a shit. All that matters is Eddie.

Their lips meet. It's long, slow, perfect. He doesn’t realize there are tears in his eyes until Eddie thumbs a rogue one off his cheek as he pulls back.

“Eddie, Eddie, Hen.” Hen’s voice comes through Eddie’s earpiece. “Hate to break up this love fest, Boss, but the motorcade’s ready. Time to move.”

Eddie sighs, dropping his forehead against Buck’s and closing his eyes as the world around them rushes back, everything coming into focus at once. He looks up, holding eye contact with Buck as he brings his watch to his mouth to speak. “Copy. Go for Eagle flight.” 

Buck rolls his eyes, all too familiar with that phrase. He turns on his heel, heading towards where the motorcade is waiting a couple hundred feet away, agents at every step of the way.

Eddie falls into step behind him, two paces in his shadow as always. Hen climbs into the car first, followed by Buck and Maddie. Eddie gets behind the wheel. As he pulls away from the curb onto the road, Eddie looks into the rearview mirror to make eye contact with Hen. “You drew the short straw, huh?” 

Hen throws back her head, laughing at that. “Chim told me he’d buy me coffee every day next week if I was the one on the radio. Again, sorry to break up what looked like a beautiful moment.”

“It was,” Eddie says honestly, just as Buck tears his gaze away from the window and says, “Can we get McDonald’s?”

The entire car is silent for a beat before breaking into fits of laughter. 

“And that right there sums up the entire relationship,” Maddie muses. 

“You know I can’t drive the presidential motorcade through the McDonald’s drive thru,” Eddie says, glancing at Buck through the rearview and raising an eyebrow. The sun is going down over the Potomac, the tiny waves breaking apart shades of shimmering orange as they speed past the waterfront. 

“I know,” Buck nods. “Doesn’t mean you can’t sneak me into another car in the White House garage and take me back out.” 

“Buck.” 

“Hen, will you come?” Buck asks, voice dripping with sweetness. He knows there always has to be a second agent in the car any time he goes anywhere. He also knows there isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell Eddie will agree to this if it’s anything shy of perfectly safe. 

“Hell yeah I’ll come,” she replies enthusiastically. “I could use some fries.” 

Eddie is silent for a minute, weighing the risks. Two armed agents, an unmarked car, no indication to the public that the president is on the roads, thirty minutes round trip, tops. He looks back at Buck once more through the mirror. He’s grinning expectantly, all dimples and white teeth and bright eyes. He’s a goner. “Say please.” 

Buck pumps the air excitedly, turning to Hen who gives him a celebratory high five followed by a double-tap fist bump, their special handshake. “Pretty please with a McChicken on top.” 

“Alright,” Eddie agrees. “Maddie, you coming?” 

“Duh.”

They pull into the White House garage moments later. Eddie goes over to the computer by the double doors that lead inside and clicks around for a minute. He scans his face and hand on one of the machines on the wall, and then a small drawer pops open. He pulls a set of keys from it and tosses them to Hen.

Which is how Eddie finds himself in the back of a blacked-out Suburban, accepting an outstretched french fry from the president of the United States as the car cruises through the quiet D.C. streets. The president of the United States, who is singing along to the radio at the top of his lungs, who drops a salty kiss to Eddie’s lips as the lights of the city pass in a blur. The president of the United States, who just so happens to be the love of his life. “Buck,” Hen warns from the front of the car. “If I hear your hand in that bag one more time I’m coming back there and cutting it off.”

“I’m not eating yours, Hen!” Buck protests. 

“Bullshit,” Maddie chimes in. “You pick fries off the top of every other box but your own and we all know it.” 

Buck doesn’t even bother trying to argue with that. In the years their parents spent, well, not parenting, the two of them lived off of fast food. Buck has fond memories of rolling through the drive thru lane with Maddie in her old blue jeep after school. And even then, he always snuck fries from her order before he went for his own. 

So instead of trying to argue that point, Buck switches his tactic. 

“Well, if Eddie and Hen let us park and eat you’d all have your own food in your hands right now.”

“Oh, no,” Eddie shakes his head. “You’re not bringing me down with you.” 

The two of them had refused to entertain Buck’s request to park and eat and instead insisted they go straight back to the White House. Eddie was prepared to remind Buck of the dangers of being a sitting duck in a parking lot, but Hen’s reply of “fat fucking chance,” when Buck asked just about covered it. 

“Fine,” Buck pouts, passing two of the three bags on his lap up to Maddie. “You guys suck, though.” 

“Noted,” Maddie replies, just as Hen reaches over the center console and plucks a fry from the top of one of the bags. 

“Hen!” Buck screeches in protest. They pull back into the garage, returning the keys and logging the car back in. Hen and Maddie head to the control room to bring Chim and Bobby food as Buck and Eddie make their way to the residence. They take the back way so that no one will see them. Despite the world now knowing the two of them are very much a thing, Eddie’s still the boss around here and doesn’t love the idea of his agents -- not to mention the gossipy aides and interns -- watching him go home with his boyfriend. 

The doors to the residence closed safely behind them, Buck pulls Eddie in for a kiss in the entryway. “Thank you,” he murmurs against Eddie’s lips. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

“For the McDonald’s? Maddie paid,” Eddie deadpans. 

Buck shoves him away playfully before pulling him back by his tie. “For all of it,” he says, voice low. “For being there today, for being okay with me letting the world in, for taking me to McDonald’s even though I know going off book stresses you out.”

“Maybe so, but it made you happy,” Eddie cuts in. “Baby, I’d do anything to see you smile like you did tonight. Even if you are slowly giving me an ulcer.”

Buck’s eyes shine with emotion. “Eddie, you’re just…” his voice trails off as he searches for the right words. “You’re the reason I’m able to do this. You’re my best friend and my love and my rock and I just. I don’t know. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I really, _really_ love you.”

Eddie takes Buck’s hands in his, squeezing. “And I really, _really_ love you,” he says quietly. Then, a second later, “Your fries are getting cold.” 

Buck grabs the bag from where he dropped it on the table beside the double doors. He nods towards the living room, Eddie following him wordlessly. He drops down onto the couch, pulling Eddie down with him. He doesn’t bother nudging his shoes off before kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. They turn on a movie, Buck providing commentary around mouthfuls of food and reaching over and grabbing some of Eddie’s fries when he thinks he’s not looking. Eddie swats his hand away. “No,” he warns, the word drawn out as if he’s talking to a naughty toddler. Which, really, he might as well be. 

“What’s on your mind?” Eddie asks later. They’ve finished eating and paused the movie long enough to shower the day off and change into sweats. Eddie has dropped his head to Buck’s shoulder, eyes closed as he enjoys the feel of Buck running his fingers through his hair absentmindedly. The only times Buck’s quiet for this long are when he’s sleeping or overthinking. 

“Thinking about it being like this all the time,” Buck says. “I don’t want to wait another four years for it.” His voice is soft, quiet. It’s barely above a whisper, as if saying it any louder will make the sentiment’s underlying message real. 

Eddie looks up to meet Buck’s eyes. “We’ll wait,” he says, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. “This is bigger than us.” 

Buck sighs, letting Eddie’s words sink in. _Bigger than us._

“Baby, what you’re doing for this country is far bigger and far more important than anything you and I could ever want,” Eddie continues. “There might be days where we’re miserable, but we’ll be miserable for America. For our families and our friends. For our neighbors and our kids and our kids’ kids who are all going to live a better life because you were here to shape the way. So we wait.” 

“What if–”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Eddie cuts in before Buck can get the words out. He presses a kiss to Buck’s lips. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

The next morning, Buck is woken up by early morning light peeking through the bottom of the curtains. “Mmm,” he says, rolling over and pulling his pillow over his head in an attempt to block out the light. 

“Good morning to you, too,” Eddie says, an amused grin on his face. 

Buck lifts his head from beneath the pillow. “Is it?” he asks dryly. “Is it a good morning, Eddie?” 

Eddie laughs. “Go back to sleep,” he says. 

Buck drops his head back onto the mattress, happy to oblige. As he reaches to tug the blankets back up over his shoulders, his eyes catch on something on Eddie’s phone screen. The words Eddie Diaz are in large type underneath a news logo. 

“Wait, what is that?” Buck asks, sitting up and leaning over to get a look at Eddie’s phone screen. Sure enough, he’s looking at an article, the headline reading _Eddie Diaz: What We Know_. Buck grabs the phone from his hands, poring over each word and picture. 

His stomach drops when he sees the photo gallery. Photos from Eddie’s time in the Army, his official Secret Service photo, even a picture of Eddie, Christopher, and Abuela. God only knows how they got their hands on that one. The caption reads **Diaz has a ten year old son, Christopher, whom he shares with his ex-wife Shannon.**

Buck freezes, looking up at Eddie. “How?” 

Eddie shrugs. “It’s all easy enough to find, probably didn’t take them too long to dig it up. Especially not if old acquaintances and Facebook friends were looking to make some fast cash.” 

“Are you okay with this?”

“Can’t say I’m crazy about it,” Eddie says honestly. “But it’s inevitable. As long as they don’t bother Chris, I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Buck asks. 

Eddie nods, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his temple. “It’s a small price to pay to wake up beside you.” 

When Buck gets to the West Wing a few hours later, he’s told there have been 483 requests for comment from media outlets in the last 18 hours. “Sir, how do you want me to handle this?” the press secretary asks, falling into step beside him as he makes his way down one of the West Wing hallways. 

“I’ll come to today’s briefing,” Buck says. “Let’s give the people what they want.” 

“You sure?” she asks.  
  
He nods. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

Which is how he finds himself walking into the Press Briefing Room a couple hours later. A hush falls over the room when he steps through the doors, everything going silent for just a moment before the reporters erupt in a flurry of questions. 

“How long have you been together?” 

“Depends who you ask,” Buck says with a laugh. “Next.” 

“What did your sister say?” 

“She’s always been my biggest cheerleader.”

“Are you at all concerned that this relationship will affect Special Agent Diaz’s job performance?” 

“No,” Buck says, matter-of-fact. 

“You don’t think emotion can cloud his ability to serve and protect?”  
  
“No,” Buck repeats. “Eddie is a damn good agent. So jot that down.”

“So you’re on a first name basis?”

“Are you on a first name basis with your significant other?” Buck asks. The room erupts in laughter. “President Buckley, how’s your healthcare plan coming?” he asks out of the side of his mouth. “Oh, what a great question!” he exclaims. More laughter from the room. “It’s great. Universal healthcare in the U.S. is on track to roll out within the year. Thanks for asking.” 

The room erupts in applause when Buck waves Eddie up to the podium. He shakes his head from where he stands by the door. Buck pouts, which earns him an eye roll from Eddie. 

Begrudgingly, Eddie walks up to the podium. “Hey, guys,” he says, waving his hand. Then, he returns to his spot by the door. 

The room is eating it up, cameras flashing as the reporters laugh at the scene and chat among themselves. 

Buck leans into the microphone. “Eddie Diaz, a man of many words.” 

He wraps up, turning the floor back over to the press secretary. With one last wave at the press corps, he’s out the door and heading back to his office. 

“Thanks for indulging me,” he says to Eddie as they make their way down the hallway. Eddie winks. 

By the time Buck gets to his desk and opens his computer, there are stories out already about his presser just a few minutes ago. He knew the media was fast, but _damn_. Most notably, though, the same wide-lens shot of his pout, met with Eddie’s eye roll and crossed arms, sits below each byline. 

**PRESIDENT BUCKLEY FLIRTS WITH AGENT BOYFRIEND AT DAILY BRIEFING**

**BARACK AND MICHELLE DETHRONED AS AMERICA’S POWER COUPLE**

**BUCKLEY BITES BACK AT NOSY PRESS IN IMPROMPTU PRESSER**

He waves Eddie and Bobby over from where they’re standing by the doors. 

“Check it out,” he says, scrolling through them all. Eddie’s response comes by way of a low whistle. 

“I think they like Eddie more than you,” Bobby says. 

“As they should,” Buck replies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've gotten so many amazing prompt ideas for this verse, many of which inspired some of the moments in this fic. i'm always looking for inspiration and will continue posting one-shots and expanded scenes from within this verse- so if you have a prompt or something you'd like to see, leave me a comment :)


	2. your wild heart

It’s a week later when Eddie finds himself face-to-face with a group of paparazzi as he steps out of the Starbucks on M street. It’s just shy of six thirty A.M., and he’s in an old Army tee shirt and running shorts, having just finished his daily four mile jog around Georgetown. He has a backwards baseball cap keeping his bed head concealed, headphones in his ears. He pushes open the door with his shoulder as he steps into the balmy morning air, a coffee in either hand. 

The camera flashes register before the shouting. Eddie looks up at the sudden burst of light before him, confused. A group of photographers, maybe five or six of them, has materialized before him. He isn’t sure where they came from. They sure as hell weren’t on the sidewalk when he stepped inside a few minutes ago.

“Special Agent Diaz!” 

“Eddie!” 

“Is that for the president?”

“Over here, Eddie!” 

“How does the president take his coffee?” 

Eddie’s fight or flight response engages. Surprising to no one is that his body tells him to fight, every part of him itching to smack the cameras out of their hands and start shouting back. He bites the inside of his cheek, trying to keep himself from reacting in a way he wouldn’t want Christopher seeing. 

He drops his gaze to the ground, shouldering his way onto the street. The small crowd of photographers follows him, some of them going as far as jogging backwards to stay in front of Eddie’s line of sight. The questions keep coming, each one more invasive than the last. 

Eddie is seething. He wants to stop dead in his tracks and tell them that the second coffee is for Carla, who leaves her family before the sun is fully up so she can take care of Christopher so that Eddie can take care of the leader of the free world. He wants to scream that the only reason he still has a job, the only reason he was able to join the Secret Service and be assigned to Buck’s campaign all those years ago, the only reason they have anything to photograph right now is because of sweet, life-saving,  _ incredible _ Carla. And her coffee’s getting cold, so they need to get the fuck out of his way. 

His mind races. He wonders how they found him. He wonders what it would be like if Chris was with him, and simultaneously thanks whatever god is out there that he’s alone right now. 

His chest feels tight as he gets to the crosswalk on the corner. He needs to turn right to get home, but there’s still two or three of them following him, and the last thing he needs is for them to find out where he lives. 

So instead of going home, he balances one of the hot cups between his wrist and his chest so he has a hand free to pull out his phone. When the light changes, he turns left, and then left again a block later. As he pulls up to the third crosswalk, a black SUV pulls up beside him. He gets in and they tear away as soon as the door slams shut behind him. 

“Thank you,” Eddie says as soon as they’re moving. 

“Holy shit,” Bobby says, looking in his rearview at where the two remaining photographers are still on the street corner. You okay?”

Eddie nods, even though he isn’t sure if that’s the truth. 

“I’ll drive around a few times before I take you home,” Bobby says. 

Eddie nods again. 

“You want to ride to work with me?” Bobby asks. He glances over at Eddie, who’s still visibly shaken. Bobby’s never seen him freaked out like this. Even when he got shot, at least then, he was talking. 

Eddie shrugs. He places the cups in the cupholders in the center console. Bringing his hands up to the back of his head, he lets his fingers lace together as he drops his head. He heaves a sigh. “Fuck,” he says. 

“Ed-”

“Fuck!” he yells, smacking the dashboard. When his eyes meet Bobby’s, they’re full of anxiety. “I have a kid!” Eddie exclaims, anger coursing through him with each beat of his heart. “If they come near him, I swear to–” 

“We’ll get him an agent,” Bobby says, matter-of-fact. “I know you said you didn’t want one, but this…” his voice trails off. 

“I don’t know,” Eddie shakes his head. “I just want him to be a regular kid.”

“Just think about it,” Bobby says, pulling up outside Eddie’s building. He parks the car, turning to face him. “Whatever you want to do, we’ll make it happen.” 

Eddie leans over the center console pulling Bobby into a hug. “Love you, man. Thank you. You don’t have to stick around, I already took enough of your time. I can–”

“Oh, I’m coming up,” Bobby cuts in. “You think I’m saving your ass from the mean streets of D.C. and leaving without a Christopher hug?” 

By the time he gets to work, Eddie is feeling much calmer. He talked it out with Carla and Bobby while Chris got dressed. Having had time to process what happened, his anxiety has gone down. He's not over it by any means – he doesn't know if he ever will be – but he's come to terms with this maybe just being the new normal. 

He purposely doesn't say anything to Buck about what happened. He doesn’t want him worrying. The panic and anxiety he felt this morning in the moment was so overpowering, the thought of sticking Buck with even a fraction of it is out of the question. 

But when Maddie texts him a link to an article with the headline “Pres. Buckley’s Boo Grabs Coffee for Two in Georgetown,” in the middle of the afternoon, Buck freezes. Below the link, Maddie’s written  **Eddie’s being papped?**

Buck’s heart falls. He opens the article, scanning over the words until he lands on the gallery of eleven pictures, all varying shots of a stony-faced Eddie on the street this morning. Buck doesn’t miss the way his jaw is clenched tight, his eyes downcast. His stomach twists.  **Apparently so** he replies. 

“What happened this morning?” he asks, looking up from his desk in the study to where Eddie’s leaning against the door frame. 

Eddie is silent for a moment, but when Buck raises an eyebrow, he says, “It was nothing.” 

“Eddie.” 

“Don’t make me lie to you.” 

“Eddie,” he repeats, his voice soft. “What happened?”   
Eddie tells him everything. When he’s finished, Buck is shaking his head. “No,” he says. “No. I don’t like this.” 

“Me either,” Eddie admits. “But we’ll figure it out.” 

“What if Chris was with you?!” Buck is livid. He gets his photo taken all the time. It’s part of the job– annoying as it is, he knew what he was signing up for when he placed his right hand on the Bible four years ago. But Eddie having his privacy invaded like that? Feeling ambushed on the street only two blocks from his home where his child was sleeping? The thought alone twists the knots in Buck’s gut even tighter. “Nope. Not okay.” He pushes back his chair, standing up. 

“Where are you going?” Eddie asks. 

“To handle this.” 

“What are you going to do?”

Buck lets out a frustrated breath. “I… I don’t know.” 

“Listen,” Eddie says. “I was caught off guard this morning and, admittedly, I panicked a little. If this is a consequence of being with you, it’s a small price to pay. We’ll work around it.” 

“I don’t want to work around it,” Buck says. “I want those fuckers to leave you alone.” 

Then, glancing up at the security camera in the corner of the room, he stares right into the lens and says, “Yes, I did just call a group of American citizens and loyal constituents fuckers.” 

He crashes the press briefing for the second time in a week. He’s only in front of the press corps for a few minutes, but it’s all he needs to get his message across: Eddie and his family are Off Limits. Period. 

“I figured I’d just go ahead and save you the trouble of having to follow him to find out the answers to these apparently burning questions. Eddie takes his coffee black with two sugars. He buys 2% milk and uses unleaded gas in his car.”

Buck takes a deep breath, trying to think of his next words. “Yes, he has a kid. And though it shouldn’t have to be said, I’ll put it out there anyway. If you even think of invading his privacy, it’ll be the last time you step foot in here,” He says, motioning to the briefing room. “What else?” he muses, tapping his chin. “Oh! Eddie does, in fact, go to Target like the rest of us.” 

The press corps laughs. He’s thankful for his strong rapport with them. They seem to really respect him, which leaves him hopeful that they’ll set the tone moving forward for what’s acceptable when it comes to covering his relationship. 

“I think that covers it, no?”

Four weeks later, Buck is re-elected to the Presidency by the largest victory margin in history. The night passes in a whirlwind, as he’s shuttled from his campaign office to the stage for his victory speech to a series of after parties. 

Eddie is by his side through it all, sitting beside him in the campaign office and holding his hand as they wait for the votes to be counted, standing next to him on stage in a pressed black suit with a proud smile as he accepts his victory, smoothing out Buck's hair in the back of the car as they pull up to the first of several after parties. 

He’s not working– Bobby’s running point, leaving Eddie free to enjoy the night as the president’s significant other, rather than his protection. Though getting Eddie to give up his Secret Service earpiece for the night had been nothing if not an uphill battle, it was one that Buck ultimately won. 

The room erupts in thunderous applause as the second-term President steps onto the stage at the last of the after parties. They immediately quiet down when he takes the microphone to say a few words.  It's another version of what he said at the two other parties, and what he said on stage accepting the victory. How grateful he is, how important the work they have to do is, how he vows to make the American people proud. 

As he looks out at the crowd, his eyes land on Eddie. He’s standing beside Maddie, the two of them with their arms around each other as they watch their person speak. 

Eddie is beaming, unable to keep the pride off his face. Meeting Buck’s eyes, he raises his glass. Buck can’t get off the stage fast enough. He all but yanks Eddie out of the ballroom and down the hallway. They wind up in a small office, the room lit only by a small lamp in the corner and the hallway light peeking through the drawn blinds. 

“I could’ve been walking out there earlier tonight to give a concession speech instead of a victory one,” Buck says, resting his hands on Eddie’s chest. “And the thing is, I still would’ve felt like the luckiest guy in the world. Because I have you.” 

Eddie says nothing, just takes Buck’s face in his hands and kisses him. What starts off as slow, languid, and meaningful quickly turns frantic and filthy, nerve endings crackling to life as they breathe each other in. 

Eddie rolls his head to one side as Buck’s mouth lands on the hinge of his jaw. Their breath comes in quick gasps, Eddie walking them forward until Buck’s back is pressed against the door, never breaking contact once. He pushes Buck’s suit jacket open so he can get his hands on him properly. 

“Baby,” Buck murmurs, his breath warm against Eddie’s skin. Eddie tugs the hem of Buck’s shirt free from under his belt and when his hands slip beneath the fabric and land on Buck’s warm skin, it feels like there’s no oxygen left in the room. 

Buck pulls his lips away from Eddie’s neck long enough to get a good look at him, drinking in the hunger in his eyes, his pupils blown with desire. And then he surges forward, taking Eddie’s lips in his. 

He nips at Eddie’s bottom lip, which earns him a low hum of a groan from deep in Eddie’s throat. Eddie slots a leg between Buck’s, closing what little distance was left between them. 

Buck inhales sharply, biting his lip as his eyes flutter shut. 

He clamps a hand over Eddie’s mouth as there’s a sharp knock on the door behind his head. He wills whoever it is to go away, but there’s a second knock a minute later. 

“Mr. President–” comes a voice from the other side. It’s one of the campaign staffers. Buck pouts at the loss of contact as Eddie takes a step back. 

“Yeah?” Buck calls back reluctantly, one hand still on Eddie’s waist. 

“They need you for pictures.” 

Buck rolls his eyes so hard that Eddie’s surprised he doesn’t get a glimpse of his own brain. “Okay,” he says, tucking his shirt back in. Eddie straightens his tie and the American flag pin on his lapel. 

His fingers linger on the pin, his thumb running over the front of it. 

“Four more years,” Eddie says softly, eyes fixed on the small piece of metal. It’s the first time they’ve had a minute alone to acknowledge the victory all night. He can’t help but smile. “You did it, Mr. President.” 

Buck nods, taking Eddie’s hand in his as they move towards the door. He presses one last kiss to his lips before swinging the door open and stepping back into the hall. “ _ We _ did it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! updates will be every day or two. as always, if you have a prompt or anything you want to see, leave me a comment!


	3. changed by crooked hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has a healthy dose of angst and a tiny spoiler for harry potter and the half blood prince lol  
> tags updated!

Maddie and Chimney are arguing about where they’re going for dinner tonight when Eddie’s phone rings. Maddie, Buck, and Eddie are in the back of the car and Chim is behind the wheel. They’re in the middle of the Presidential motorcade on the way to a meeting in Maryland. It took almost two months of planning to find a date that worked for both of them, but Buck was finally going to be sitting down with the former President, Buck’s predecessor. She’s been working on a task force to combat unemployment, and the two of them are working on (groundbreaking, if you ask Buck) revisions to unemployment law in the country. It’s been two months since Buck was sworn in for a second time, and getting this meeting on his calendar was his first order of business once the inauguration dust settled.

The phone rings through the quiet chatter in the car and Eddie freezes, suddenly anxious as he pulls it from his pocket. The only three contacts that can ring through when he’s at work are Christopher’s school, Shannon, or his abuela. And for one of them to be calling him at 10:44 on a Tuesday morning, something has to be up. Buck stiffens at the sound of the ringtone, glancing over to steal a glance at the caller ID. It’s Shannon. He places a hand on Eddie’s knee and squeezes it reassuringly. 

Eddie answers it, pausing for Shannon to speak. Buck watches as his face goes white. 

Buck, the eavesdropper, is trying his best to hear what she’s saying through the phone, but he can only make out Eddie’s half of the conversation. It’s all _okay_ , _how_ , _okay_ , _yeah_ , _yeah_ , _okay_ , with varying lengths of pause between each. 

But then he says “What hospital?” and Buck turns to look at Eddie so quickly he’s surprised his neck doesn’t snap. Maddie and Chim share a concerned look in the rearview mirror before she pulls her own phone from her bag. 

Eddie mouths the word _Christopher_ and Buck leans forward, places a hand on Chim’s shoulder and says “Pull over, now.” 

As a general rule, the Presidential motorcade does not pull over. The wheels keep moving until they reach their destination. Always. But something about the tone of Buck’s voice and the way all the color has drained from Eddie’s face has Chim saying “Let me see what I can do,” and radioing to the agents in the lead car without hesitation.

Buck’s never seen Eddie look so shaken. “Hey,” he says quietly, placing a hand on Eddie’s arm once he hangs up the phone. “What’s going on?” 

“I… I don’t know,” Eddie says honestly. “Something happened to Christopher on his field trip. They didn’t tell her much, just that there was an accident and he’s on the way to the emergency room.” 

“Which hospital?” Buck asks.

“GW.” 

“Reroute,” Buck says to Chim. Then, turning to where Maddie’s sitting in the row behind them, “Mads, please have someone push my meeting.” 

Maddie says something under her breath that sounds like “I already did.” 

“I–” Eddie begins. Buck holds his hand up, knowing he's about to protest.

“Don’t.”

Eddie just nods. He looks down at his hands, noticing for the first time that they’re shaking. He folds them in his lap in an attempt to calm the nervous movement. Buck, seeing this, reaches over the gap between their seats and takes both of Eddie’s hands in his wordlessly. 

Eddie sighs, looking over at Buck with grateful eyes. He doesn’t speak until they pull up to the hospital a few minutes later. 

“I’m coming with you,” Buck says.

Eddie shakes his head. “No. This meeting is so important. You guys have to get the ball rolling on this law. You need to go.” 

“I want to be with you,” Buck insists. He knows Eddie’s right. This _is_ an incredibly important meeting, and he needs to be there. But still, he wants to be with Eddie. Wants to be there for Chris. 

“I’ll call you as soon as I know anything,” Eddie says. What he wants to say is that he wants Buck beside him right now more than anything. But instead, he says, “Go be the President. I’ll call you, okay?”

Buck swallows around a lump in his throat. He nods. “Okay.” 

The doors unlock and Eddie jumps out. He stops a few steps from the curb, turning and calling back to them. “Thank you.”

“Go,” Buck instructs, leaning forward and shouting through Chimney’s open window. “Call me when you hear anything.” 

Buck falls apart the second Eddie disappears through the sliding door entrance to the hospital. He had been holding it together for Eddie’s sake, but the thought of Christopher being rushed to the ER was as terrifying and anxiety-inducing as they come. 

As they pull back onto K street, a red ambulance zips past them, lights flashing and sirens blaring. Buck wonders if Chris is inside that one, and thinks about how scared he must be right now. He exhales shakily. 

“Evan,” Maddie says from behind him. He hears the click of her seatbelt releasing. She climbs up to where Eddie had been sitting, dropping into the seat and fastening the belt. “Focus. Breathe.” Her voice is calm, even, grounding. 

“I can’t,” Buck says, heart racing. His brain is playing a supercut of possible scenarios that have landed Christopher in an ambulance on his way to the hospital, none of them good. “I… I can’t, Mads.”

Maddie places a hand on his shoulder. “Do you know how many times I saw kids brought into the ER when they barely had a scratch?” Maddie asks, referring to her time as a nurse almost a decade ago. Buck shakes his head. “Almost daily. The schools do it to cover their asses. I’m sure it’s okay.”

He nods, taking a deep breath. Maddie’s words are helping to ease the tightness in his chest, the pounding in his ears. “Breathe with me,” she instructs. He matches her slow, even breathing, and feels himself start to calm down. His body comes out of overdrive, his heart slowing and his breaths coming more evenly. 

The 45 minute drive to Annapolis passes at a snail’s pace. Maddie and Chim talk the whole time, trying to keep Buck occupied. 

Buck keeps his phone resting on his thigh, willing it to buzz with Eddie’s name. As they’re pulling up to the building, his phone lights up. He answers on the first ring. “How is he?”

“He’s okay,” Eddie says, met with Buck’s sigh of relief. “He had a bad fall on his class trip, messed up his ankle. They have him getting X-rays now.” 

“Did you see him yet? Is he in pain?” 

“He’s alright,” Eddie says. “Shannon beat the ambulance here and said he was smiling ear to ear when they wheeled him in. The EMTs promised him he could come to the station and hit the buttons for the sirens as soon as he’s out of here.” 

Buck smiles. “I love that kid.”

“Yeah, me too,” Eddie says quietly. “Go to your meeting. I’ll text you if anything happens, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Buck agrees. “Give him a hug for me, okay?”  
“Of course,” Eddie says. 

Buck glances up at the large stone building. “I wish I could be there,” he says quietly. 

“Me, too,” Eddie admits. He didn’t want to say it before, knowing that Buck would immediately insist on clearing his day. He didn’t want that happening, but he selfishly wants nothing more than Buck here by his side. “Hey, wait,” he adds. “There’s something else.” 

“Yeah?”

Eddie pauses, thinking better of it. He changes his mind. “I just….” He doesn’t want to tell Buck the full truth about Christopher’s fall right before he walks into such an important meeting. It can wait.

“Baby?” Buck asks. Something’s off in Eddie’s voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s okay. Just… I love you.” 

Buck sighs. He’s still worried, can’t shake the weirdness of the tight edge to Eddie’s voice, but he takes comfort in those final three words. “I love you, too. Go be super dad, yeah?”

Eddie nods, even though Buck can’t see him. He bites his bottom lip in an attempt to force back the emotions pushing their way to the surface. “Yes, sir,” he says, hanging up.

When the door to the car opens, Hen is standing there. She follows Buck up the stairs, replacing Eddie as the president’s principal agent. “Come get me if something happens,” Buck tells her, stepping into the conference room and leaving her at her post by the door. “Don’t hesitate.” 

She nods. He takes a deep breath, trying to tuck the worry away so he can focus on the important work at hand. “Madam President,” he says with a smile, stepping into the room.

“President Buckley,” she smiles. “Two terms. Congratulations.” 

He thanks her, taking a seat at the conference table in the middle of the room. He crosses his ankles under the table in an attempt to get his leg to stop bouncing anxiously. He asks her how she’s doing, but none of her words register as his mind is too caught up in wondering how Eddie and Christopher are doing. 

They chat about life and the presidency for a while, but Buck would be lying if he said he didn’t feel like a shell of himself. He’s going through the motions, but the light behind his eyes is gone, his smile not quite reaching his eyes as he answers the questions she throws his way with his usual wit and charm. His thoughts are all consumed by the Diaz boys, his chest actually aching. 

Twenty minutes pass before his phone buzzes on the table beside him. He checks it immediately. **His left ankle is broken. Needs surgery. They’re taking him down now.**

His stomach drops. If he had to guess, he thinks it must’ve landed somewhere near his feet. He doesn’t even think before he’s on his feet. “I’m so sorry,” he says. “Family emergency. I have to go.” He closes up the files on the table that he brought, piling them up as he speaks. “Again, I’m so sorry. We’ll reschedule, I prom--”

“Go!” she says, waving her hand. “Go, Mr. President. Family first, always.”

“I’m so–” 

“Don’t apologize. Our loved ones’ lives don’t stop just because we have work to do.” 

Buck sighs, overcome with relief and gratitude. “Thank you,” he says, grabbing his pile of stuff from the table. He extends his hand and she instead pulls him into a hug. “Listen,” she says. “A word of advice from someone who did her time in the Oval. Show up for your family. The job will be here when you get back. And don’t ever apologize for it.” 

Buck nods. It’s exactly what he needs to hear. “Thank you,” he says again as he makes his way to the door. He pauses with his hand on the doorknob, turning back to where she’s still seated at the conference table. “What’s your drink of choice?”

“Bourbon,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Next time you see me, I’m gonna have the biggest bottle of bourbon in the world for you. That’s why.”

Chim and Hen have him to the hospital within the hour. Buck didn’t even have to ask– one look at his anxiety-ridden face as he emerged an hour and a half early from his meeting was all Hen needed to know exactly where to order the motorcade to go. 

“When can I go in?” he asks the second they pull up. He knows the agents will have to sweep the building and clear the floor before they allow him in. What he isn’t expecting is Hen’s answer of “Right now.” 

“Really?” 

She nods. “Bobby had a team over here as soon as Eddie called in that he was off duty.” Upon seeing the confused look take over his face, she adds, “We knew there wasn’t a chance you wouldn’t be here the first chance you got.” 

He leans forward, pressing a kiss to her cheek, then Chim’s. “I love you guys, you know that?” 

“Yeah, we know,” she says with a grin. “C’mon, let’s go.” 

She leads him to a back entrance, where Bobby is waiting for them. Hen lets Buck through the door first, following behind him as Bobby leads them up a couple of flights of stairs and down a long hallway. 

They turn a corner, the white walls turning yellow as they pass through double doors labeled PEDIATRICS. There are big stickers of Disney characters and Marvel superheroes lining the hall, plastered onto the bright yellow walls. Buck’s heart ticks up in anticipation.

Bobby stops in front of a closed door right across from the nurse’s station. “The hallway’s clear, the doctors and nurses have been briefed, and we have agents at every entrance.” Buck nods, though admittedly, the last thing on his mind is his own safety right now. He just wants to be with his boys. “Go ahead,” Bobby says, motioning to the door. “We’ll be right here.” 

Buck doesn’t have to be told twice. He pushes the door open without hesitation, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. 

Eddie is sitting in a plastic chair beside the hospital bed, in which Christopher is fast asleep. He looks up at the sound of Buck entering the room. He freezes for a second, and Buck can see how wrecked he is from all the way across the room. “Hey,” Buck whispers, his voice breaking as their eyes meet.

Eddie exhales shakily. “Hey you,” he says. 

Buck can hear the lump in his throat through his words. He crosses the room as Eddie pushes back the chair and stands. He pulls Eddie into his chest without another word. Eddie lets out a long breath, one he’d been holding for quite some time. He relaxes into Buck’s touch, closing his eyes and breathing in the familiar scent of his man. 

“What are you doing here?” Eddie asks, realization dawning on him. “Your meeting, and security, and–” 

“You know exactly what I’m doing here,” Buck cuts him off. “My meeting will be rescheduled. And your incredible team of agents took care of everything.” 

“No, you should be in Maryland, it’s too important.” Eddie insists. “It’s too important. You–”

Buck places a hand on Eddie’s cheek, his touch instantly calming the wild streak in Eddie’s eyes. Eddie pauses, their eyes meeting. 

“You’re what’s important to me right now.”

“But–” 

Buck runs his thumb over Eddie’s cheek affectionately, whispering “I am exactly where I need to be.”

Eddie nods, taking Buck’s hand in his. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says quietly. 

“Me, too,” Buck answers. 

“He’ll be so happy to see you when he wakes up.” 

Buck smiles softly. He glances over at Christopher, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. White gauze covers the skin from his toes to just below his knee, his leg suspended a foot or two off the bed in a long, padded sling attached to the ceiling. Even in a deep sleep, he’s still got the hint of a smile on his face. 

Buck finds great comfort in the steady beeping of the machines beside his bed, a confirmation that he’s stable. 

“What happened?” he asks finally, pulling a chair up next to Eddie’s. He sits down, immediately taking Eddie’s right hand in his left. He squeezes it reassuringly. 

Eddie’s jaw clenches. He’s angry all over again as he recounts the details he got from Shannon when he first arrived. He’s glad he didn’t tell Buck about it on the phone. He hasn’t even told him yet and already Buck’s face is painted with worry. 

“His trip to the Washington Monument with his class today,” he begins, voice low as to not wake his son. “There were tourists there trying to take his picture. I guess it got out of hand and they started following him, shouting at him. He, uh, he fell down trying to get away from them,” Eddie pauses, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm to the rage he can feel bubbling deep in his chest. 

Buck’s chest squeezes, his heart rate picking up more and more with each word out of Eddie’s mouth. The anger he feels brewing in his gut is unlike any other. “He broke his ankle in two places,” Eddie says. Saying it out loud is like a punch to the gut, as if it’s confirmation of his fear of being unable to protect his child coming true. 

Buck’s jaw is set, his lips pressed in a tight line as he tries to keep the anger from overcoming him. Eddie inhales shakily. “We got lucky. They were able to set it and get everything realigned in surgery. He didn’t need pins or anything put in, thank god. The doctors want to keep him for the night to make sure everything still looks good, and we’ll come back next week for a cast once the swelling goes down. But he’s gonna be fine.” 

A sigh of relief makes its way from Buck’s chest. “Was he scared?” 

Eddie shakes his head, a small laugh escaping his lips. “Nah. We were with him while they prepped him to go to the OR. We told him he was getting surgery and would be here for the night and his only concern was someone getting his Switch so he can play Animal Crossing when he wakes up.”

Buck grins. He places a hand on Christopher’s non-casted shin, squeezing it reassuringly. “This kid amazes me,” he says. 

“You can say that again,” Eddie says, eyes lighting up as he looks at his kid. “He made us promise to have it when he woke up so Shannon ran to her house to get it. She’s stopping at mine too to grab his Spider-Man blanket.” 

“Make sure she brings the Half-Blood Prince,” Buck says. “He’s going to want a chapter before bed. Ron just found out Hermione kissed Viktor Krum and shit’s about to go down. Can’t leave the kid hanging.”

Eddie grins. He pulls out his phone to text Shannon and tries to calm the butterflies in his chest at the thought of Buck knowing exactly what’ll bring Chris comfort right now. He succeeds for a moment, but then he’s thinking about how Buck had Maddie bring back his own copies of the Harry Potter books when she went to Pennsylvania for a friend’s wedding. How he had her bring them to the residence so he could FaceTime Chris and take a turn reading him a chapter a few nights a week. And the damn butterflies are back. 

“You doing okay?” Buck asks after a minute. 

Eddie shakes his head. “No,” he admits. He takes a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. He glances up at where his son is still sleeping comfortably. “I should’ve done more to protect him.” 

Buck places a hand on Eddie’s back, rubbing reassuring circles into the spot between his shoulder blades. “Eddie–” 

“I should’ve insisted he had an agent. I should’ve asked Carla to go on the trip today. I shouldn’t have let him even go in the first place. I...” Hot tears sting his eyes, his voice trailing off. He’s furious with himself. 

“You wanted him to be a normal kid, you–”

“I’m his dad,” Eddie interrupts, shaking his head. “I’m supposed to protect him. I failed him.” 

“Stop that,” Buck says. The way he sees it, Eddie wasn’t the one who failed Christopher, he was. 

He was the one who let the world know about his relationship with Eddie. He was the one who confirmed Christopher’s existence in front of the White House press corps. He was the one who had Christopher’s class come to the White House, who flaunted their bond. 

He thinks back to the NATO conference a couple months back, when he had passed a picture of Christopher’s science fair project around the room during lunch time. Eddie had stood there with the biggest smile on his face as he watched Buck brag to the German Chancellor about how Christopher put the potato clock together all by himself, refusing assistance from Eddie and Buck. 

He thinks about the way Eddie kissed him hungrily in the car on the way back to the hotel later that day, how he had looked at him after and said “What was that for?” 

Eddie had smiled softly, lacing their fingers together, replying “You were quite the family man today.”

Buck had rested his head on Eddie’s shoulder, closing his eyes contentedly. _Family._ “You ever love something so much you can’t shut up about it?” he asked in response. Eddie kissed him again. 

“Dad?” Christopher’s voice comes out soft and gravelly, pulling Buck from his thoughts. He tucks his feelings away, plastering a smile on his face. One look at Eddie tells him he’s done the same. He swipes at his eyes with the heel of his hands quickly, all but jumping out of the chair, leaning over the bed and taking Christopher’s hand in his. “Hey, bud, I’m here.” He wasn’t expecting him to wake up so soon, but the relief at seeing him up and hearing his voice is practically palpable. 

“Did you get my Switch?” 

Neither Eddie nor Buck can keep a straight face. Buck actually snorts. “Bucky?” Chris asks, craning his neck to get a look over Eddie’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Hey, bud.” Buck smiles, his heart twisting up at the sound of his special Chris-only nickname. “How you feeling?”

“Tired,” Christopher answers. “Is Mom coming with my Switch?” 

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, pal. She’s on her way now. She’s stopping at my house to get some stuff, too.” 

“Can she…. Can she bring Half-Blood Prince?” Christopher asks, eyelids drooping. 

Eddie and Buck share a look. “She’s on it,” Buck says, winking at Eddie. 

“Why don’t you go back to sleep?” Eddie suggests, smoothing out the curls on top of Christopher’s head. “And I bet when you wake up, Mom will be back with your things.” 

“Will Bucky be here when I wake up?” 

Buck leans forward, saying without hesitation, “You bet.” Christopher falls back asleep with a smile on his face.

Eddie fills Buck in on everything the doctors said about the surgery and the injury. Talking about it again brings back the anger and guilt Buck felt from before, it burning red-hot as it courses through him. “Tell me those idiots at the monument were dealt with,” he says, voice steely. When Eddie shrugs, Buck pulls out his phone. “I want names,” he says. 

“I don’t have them,” Eddie says. “Shannon said that when his teacher called she said it was a group of tourists. That’s all I know.” 

“Then we find out,” Buck says. “I’m not letting them get away with this. I mean, he’s a child, for fuck’s sake.” 

Eddie feels just as angry, but he knows getting Buck involved could draw media attention and make it worse. “Buck.”

“No!” he whisper-hisses. “No. This is not okay I–” 

They’re interrupted by two doctors coming into the room. Buck is relieved that they don’t seem to give much of a shit that he’s here and that he’s the president. Instead, they focus on updating Eddie on Christopher’s treatment plan and answering the multitude of questions Buck and Eddie have between them. Then Shannon’s arriving, and Chris wakes up, and Buck stays long enough to climb into the hospital bed beside him and read him another chapter of the Half-Blood Prince. 

Leaving the hospital and going back to his empty bed at the White House is one of the harder things he’s ever had to do. He only leaves after Eddie swears he’ll call him first thing if anything changes. 

Buck doesn’t sleep. It’s too quiet in the residence, the bed too big. He can’t stop replaying Eddie’s words in his head, going over what happened to Chris today ten times over, then ten more. He can’t stop thinking about how scared Chris must have been, trying to get away from the strangers shouting at him and following him. It makes him sick to his stomach, the feelings of responsibility tied to his distress over what happened eating at him. He’s still staring at his ceiling when the sun comes up. 

The agents agree to take him to Eddie’s the following night, once Christopher is home and settled and they get permission from Eddie to let Buck off the premises. He gets there just in time to tag-team bedtime with Eddie. They take turns reading, each taking a page or two before switching, and the look on Christopher’s face is priceless. “Stay?” Eddie asks once they’re back in the kitchen, Christopher long-since asleep. It breaks Buck’s heart knowing how much it must’ve taken for Eddie to ask that, and what’s about to come out of his own mouth. 

“I can’t,” Buck says. The words taste sour coming up, nothing feels right about them. 

“Early meeting?” 

“No,” Buck says. “I can’t…. Eddie, we can’t.” 

“The night agents are fine,” Eddie mistakes the meaning of Buck’s words. 

“No, you’re not hearing me,” Buck says, setting his beer down on the counter. “We can’t do this anymore.” 

Eddie freezes. The light tone of his voice is gone when he asks, “This being… us?” His voice breaks on the last word. He clears his throat. “You want to break up?”

Buck nods, despite the aching in his chest telling him not to. “Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just wanted to thank you all for reading. these quarantine times have been hard and honestly pretty upsetting some days, but i've found so much comfort in writing this verse, reading your comments, and chatting with y'all. hearing from you guys makes my day, i spend all day looking forward to logging on and reading your comments :) so thank you!


	4. the echoes of the lies that i told

“You want to break up?”

“Yeah.” 

Eddie’s brow furrows. “Well, that’s not what I want."

“Christopher got hurt because of me,” Buck says, voice uneven, thick with emotion. “Because of who I am and because of the consequences that come with the job I have. I can’t put you guys through this.”

“I think that’s my call to make.” 

“You just had one of the worst days of your life,” Buck points out. “Your kid was traumatized by a group of strangers. He had emergency surgery and had to sleep in a hospital and he isn’t going to be able to walk for a month. And that wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t in the picture.” 

“He’s going to be fine,” Eddie says calmly. “Yeah, it was scary and we’re all a little shaken, but it’s life. He’s a kid and he broke his ankle. He could have fallen down the stairs here and done the same thing. It was an accident.” 

“No,” Buck’s tone is insistent. “It was preventable. Take me – take _this_ ,” he motions between the two of them. “Out of the equation and Chris would be fine right now.”

“He _is_ fine!” Eddie whisper-hisses. “He’s okay. He’s not in pain and he’s _happy_ and he’s going to make a full recovery. Buck, he’s a kid. These things happen.” 

“You’re telling me you’re not even a little angry about what happened?”

“A little angry? I’m _furious_. I don’t think I’ll ever stop being angry about it. Hell, I dream about hunting down every single person who even got near him.” Eddie paces as he speaks. “I blame myself for not doing more to protect him, for putting his desires to be a normal kid before my parental instincts. But not for a single second did I blame you or blame us. We have just as much of a right to be able to live our lives as regular people do.” 

“But that’s the thing,” Buck replies. “We’re not regular people. I went and made that stupid fucking speech and now we’re all America wants to talk about! Which is all well and good until it’s not. Christopher got hurt because of it. And I’m not okay with that."

Eddie doesn’t say anything at first. He’s trying to push down the fear, the sadness, the anxiety all brewing as he realizes Buck isn’t backing down. It’s not working, and the feelings are starting to overtake him. “It’s been a long few days,” he says after a moment, trying to keep his voice from wavering. “We can talk about this tomorrow. Let’s go to bed.” 

Buck shakes his head, grabbing his coat from where he draped it over one of the barstools at the kitchen island. “Take the rest of the week off,” he says quietly. “If you want to be reassigned when you come back, I’ll understand.”

“No,” Eddie says, stepping in front of him and blocking his path to the front door. It feels like someone’s stepping on his chest, all the air gone from his lungs as he scrambles to make sense of Buck’s words.

“Eddie, please,” Buck all but begs. He’s standing firm. “Please, just let me go. It's what I want.” 

“Let you go?!” Eddie asks incredulously. “Are… are you high? In what world do I just let you go?” 

“Eddie.”

“No!” Eddie can feel hot tears pricking at his eyes. He blinks them back. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to give up on me.”

“I love you _so_ much,” Buck says, his voice breaking. “I’m not giving up on you. I’m giving up for you.” 

Eddie swallows around the lump in his throat. 

Buck sighs. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice watery. Then, he pushes past Eddie and is out the door before he lets Eddie see him cry. 

Eddie stands in stunned silence as he watches the door close. The sound of the handle catching in the door jamb snaps him out of his trance. He runs over to the door, swinging it back open only to see the hallway empty. He steps into this hallway, his bare feet cold against the wooden floor.

He looks left and right, but doesn’t see Buck or any of the agents. He swears under his breath, stepping back inside and closing the door behind him. He hears a car pull away from the curb and smacks his hand against the door frame in frustration. 

He presses his back to the door, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes as he sinks to the floor, trying to fight the tears welling in his eyes. Once he can no longer hear the sound of tires on pavement, he lets the tears fall. 

Buck is silent the whole way home. Hen sits beside him in the back of the car and rubs his back wordlessly. He goes straight to the residence the second he gets inside, ready to climb in bed. His skin is buzzing as he tries to curb the nagging feeling to call Eddie and tell him never mind. But then he thinks about how small Christopher looked laying in his hospital bed, how he’ll be in a wheelchair for a month while the bones heal, and how scared he must’ve been trying to get away from a group of strangers calling his name.

He shuts off his phone.

When he opens the residence doors, Maddie is sitting cross-legged on the sofa with a six pack and a stack of DVDs. She gives him a sad smile as he tosses his phone onto the coffee table. “Hen texted me, said something was up,” she says, concerned. “What happened?”

"Nothing, I'm fine," Buck says. The sorrow in his voice betrays him, causing Maddie to rise to her feet. 

"No you're not," she mutters. "Evan?" 

“It’s over,” Buck says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. Then, louder, “It’s over.” The words feel foreign, so he says them again. And again. And then he’s crying, choking on a sob as Maddie wraps him in a hug. “It’s over.” 

Once he’s all cried out, having walked his sister through the events of the past hour, Maddie puts on a movie in an attempt to distract him. He shakes his head when she offers him a beer and instead pulls the blanket she tossed him a minute ago up to his chin. He couldn't tell you what movie it was or a single thing that happened in it, nothing but Eddie consuming his thoughts. His chest physically aches each time he breathes. 

Maddie’s phone rings halfway through. “Hello?” 

Buck turns to face her, but she waves him off. “Yeah, he’s right here.” 

He takes the phone from her with a questioning look, then catches a glimpse of the caller ID. He hits the red icon without hesitation, ending the call. 

“Evan Buckley!” Maddie exclaims, snatching the phone back from him. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I don’t want to talk to him,” he says dejectedly. 

Maddie sighs. “He said he’s been trying to call you for an hour.” She fires off a text to Eddie. **Sorry :(**

“I shut my phone off.” 

“I don’t get it,” she says, pausing the movie. “You guys belong together.”

Buck feels the familiar pressure in his head signaling a fresh round of tears is headed straight for his eyeballs. He looks up at the ceiling, blinking. "I can’t do it,” he says. “I can’t expect Eddie to be with me when this is what could happen. What’s to say it doesn’t happen again? And we’re not as lucky?” 

“That sounds like Eddie’s decision to make.”

Buck groans, rubbing his face. “Did he tell you to say that?” 

“No,” Maddie says, sitting up and facing her brother. “As an impartial observer, I’ll say this. I’ve never seen either of you as happy as when you’re together. Three of you, if you count Chris.” Buck is silent, thinking about Maddie’s words. After a minute, she stands up and adds, “I think you need to sleep on it. I’m clearing your day tomorrow.” 

“Mads-”

“Clearing. Your. Day.” Her tone makes it clear that there will be no negotiations.

Buck tries anyway. On any other day, he'd be jumping at the chance to take a day off. But now, he's not sure how he'll get through the day without work to distract him. "Aren't you the one who said the president doesn't take a personal day?"

She looks him up and down. "You're not going to get anything accomplished tomorrow," she declares. "I mean, other than scaring the staffers if you show up looking like that," she adds, motioning to his swollen, tired eyes and disheveled hair. She flicks off the TV.

“Hey!” Buck protests. 

“Yeah, cause you were watching that,” Maddie rolls her eyes. “Call your man or go to bed,” she says. “Pick one. I’ll be here if you need me.” 

“Bed it is,” he says, standing up to head to his room. He pulls her into a hug. "Love you."

She stands on her tiptoes so she can ruffle the hair on top of his head, just like she used to when they were young and she still had a few inches on him. “Love you, too,” she says. “And it’s because I love you that I’ll tell you this: you look like shit.” 

He holds his middle finger high in the air as he walks down the hallway to his bedroom. Once inside, he curls up on the bed. His eyes land on his worn-in copy of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, sitting on the night stand next to a half-full glass of water and his powered-down phone. For a second, he thinks he might vomit. 

He quickly shuts the lamp off, shrouding the room in darkness before turning over and screwing his eyes shut. He can't shut his mind off, the echoes of the lies he told today reverberating around the room and consuming him. _I'm fine_. Lie. _Let me go, it's what I want._ Lie. 

His mind plays back his conversation with Eddie, the words they exchanged ringing in his ears so clearly, he might as well be reliving it all in the moment now. Eddie's voice is crystal clear, absolutely wrecked, his pleas and insistence swirling together in the world's cruelest supercut. The last thing he hears before sleep takes him is Christopher's voice. _Bucky._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was originally the first half of a much longer chapter, but i decided to split it into two and post this first since it's done the second half isn't yet. i'm hoping to get the next part up tonight but wanted to post this now since it's ready to go and i know a lot of you are eager for an update <3 sorry in advance for the broken hearts, just hang on for the next update and try not to hate me too much!


	5. say you'll love, love me forever, never stop, never whatever

It’s nearly three in the afternoon when Buck opens his eyes. He sits up, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn. Fifteen hours of sleep and he’s still tired. Naturally. 

He’s half shocked, half grateful that Maddie let him sleep so late without barging in and dragging him out of bed. He turns on his phone and sees six missed calls from Eddie, all from last night save for the last one, which was only an hour ago. 

His stomach lurches as the memories of last night rush back in. He locks his phone, tossing it onto the bed with a groan. He takes a shower and pulls on a pair of sweatpants and an old, worn-in Navy sweatshirt, not bothering with dress pants or a suit since there's not a chance in hell he's setting foot in the West Wing today.

He sits down on the corner of his bed, grabbing his phone and making his way through his other missed notifications. The door swings open without warning and he nearly falls to the floor. 

“Jesus, Maddie!” he shouts, startled. "What if I was naked?!" 

“Oh good, you’re up,” she says, voice sugary sweet. “You call Eddie?”

Buck shoots daggers across the room with his eyes in response. 

Maddie frowns. “Want to go for a ride?” she asks. Buck perks up like a dog who just heard the jingle of his leash. 

Ten minutes later, they’re in one of the Secret Service SUVs. They’re alone in the car, which means they aren’t allowed to take it off of the White House grounds. There’s a chase car behind them just in case. Buck couldn’t care less, though. Sitting in the passenger seat beside his sister as she drives loops around the grounds, music blasting, he feels like a kid again. 

Some of his best memories were in Maddie’s old blue jeep, riding around town together and singing along to her mix CDs. He reaches up, pressing the button to open the sunroof. Not even a minute later, the radio sitting in the cupholder between them clicks on. 

“You know the rules, Buck.”

He grabs the radio with a sigh. “Please, Chim,” he whines. “It’s beautiful today. The fresh air–”

“–Is not worth a sniper’s bullet coming through the open roof,” Chimney cuts in, finishing his sentence. 

“Shut it or we shut this whole operation down.” Hen’s voice this time. Buck glances in the rearview mirror and sees her sitting next to Chim in the chase car. He raises his hand out of the open sun roof, flipping them off before closing it reluctantly. 

They ride around for what only feels like minutes, but when Buck glances at the clock he notices it’s been close to two hours. “Can we order pizza?” he asks over the 80's music on the radio.

“Already did, it’ll be here at 7,” she says. 

“You’re the best sister in the world, you know that?”

“Oh, trust me, I know."

Eddie checks his phone for what has to be the hundredth time. Still radio silence from Buck. Before he got Christopher ready for bed, he had texted Maddie, the message reading  **Just want to know if he’s okay. Is he? Chim said he was pretty messed up last night.** They’ve been exchanging messages on and off since last night when Buck made it clear he wasn’t interested in hearing from Eddie. 

Now, sitting on the edge of Christopher’s bed while he puts his clothes in the hamper, Eddie pulls out his phone and checks it. Maddie’s response comes in three separate messages, reading

**Chim was right**

**And to answer your question, no**

**Not in the slightest**

Eddie inhales sharply, pocketing his phone as Chris comes over, holding his Harry Potter book. Eddie hoists him into the air like a superhero before laying him down gently in the bed. Christopher laughs, looking up at his dad from where his head rests on the pillow. 

“Do you think Bucky can read to me tonight?” Chris asks. “We can FaceTime him.” 

Eddie’s heart sinks. He ruffles the hair on top of his son’s head. “Not tonight, buddy. I’m sorry.” He pretends he doesn’t see Christopher’s face fall. He takes the book from him, forcing a smile. “I’ll try my best to do the voices like he does, though.” 

Christopher nods, snuggling up against Eddie’s side as he begins to read. When he finishes the chapter and closes the book, Christopher looks up at him. “Dad?”

“Yeah, bud?”

“Is Bucky mad at me?” 

Eddie’s brow furrows, a mix of confusion and surprise. “What? No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

“I fell and had to go in the ambulance and then you were crying last night and he wasn’t here when I woke up.” 

Eddie sighs. His heart is actively breaking, between the look on Christopher’s face, him thinking he’s the reason why Buck left last night, and knowing he heard him fall apart. “I didn’t know you were awake last night, buddy. I’m sorry.” He hugs his son close. “Buck isn’t mad at anyone. We just talked about something that made us sad. But we’re okay.”

This seems to satisfy him, as he nods, opening the book up to the dog-eared page and placing it in Eddie’s lap. “You have to do the accents, okay?” 

Eddie salutes. “Yes, sir.” 

When Eddie finishes reading, Chris hangs onto the book. “Can I stay up and read on my own for a little?” 

As if Eddie could ever say no to those big blue eyes. “Of course. Twenty minutes, okay?” 

Stepping into the hallway, Eddie pulls out his phone and dials Buck. He fully expects to be sent straight to voicemail. His heart ticks up in anticipation when the line starts ringing.

He pulls a beer from the refrigerator before settling in on the sofa. He knows he won't find sleep tonight. If it's anything like last night, he'll stare at the ceiling until the sun comes up, too numb to do anything but. 

When he hears the click of the call connecting, his chest squeezes. 

“Eddie, please,” Buck says by way of a greeting. He sounds absolutely wrecked. 

“No,” Eddie says quickly, before Buck can hang up. “Let me say this.”

There’s a long pause, then a sigh on Buck’s end. “Fine.”

“It’s been almost seven years. You think it took me seven years to realize what you do for a living? Seven years in which I have been standing several feet away from you while you’ve performed said job?” Eddie asks. “Of course not. I knew what the presidency entailed long before you even put your name on the ticket.”

“I know,” comes Buck’s reply. 

“I’ve had outs left and right,” Eddie says. He's careful to keep his voice low, knowing Chris is only a few rooms away and very much still awake. “I could’ve walked away from you – from us – at any point. Hell, you’ve practically presented a few of them to me on a silver platter over the years.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“If I wanted an out, I’d take one. When have you ever known me to do something I didn’t want to?” 

Another long pause before Buck speaks. “Never.”

“I didn’t leave for a reason.” 

Buck says nothing. Eddie continues. “I didn’t leave because I love you. And part of loving you means I get to tell you when you’re being an idiot. And right now, you’re being an idiot.”

“I’m doing this for you!” Buck exclaims. “For Christopher, so he can be normal and you guys can be safe. Please, Eddie, I-”

“We don’t want that!” Eddie cuts in, frustrated. He takes a long, deep breath, calming down. “Listen. You’re always first to sacrifice for others and I love that about you so,  _ so  _ much. But that isn’t what we want. Tell me honestly that you don't want this.”

Of course he wants it. He wants forehead kisses and hand squeezes and soft smiles from across the kitchen table.  He wants goodnight kisses and bedtime stories and french toast on Sunday mornings. He wants beers on the back deck, sparklers on the driveway on the fourth of July, first day of school pictures on the front porch. He wants it all with Eddie and Christopher, more than he's ever wanted anything in his life. More than he's wanted to be a SEAL, more than he's wanted to be the president, more than all his other dreams and desires combined. 

This is it, he realizes. His deathbed dream– when he's old and dying and his great great grandchildren are huddled around his bed and they ask him if his dreams came true, it'll be this. This is the dream he's going to think of. A life with Eddie is his biggest, boldest dream. 

“All I  want is for you to be happy.”

“Don’t you get it?” Eddie is exasperated. “I’m not happy without you.”

“But Christopher–”

“Is miserable without you,” Eddie replies. Then, he adds, “just like his dad.”

Eddie’s words sink in. 

“Listen,” Eddie continues. “All this fear you’re feeling right now? The guilt and concern and anxiety? It’s the same thing I felt when he fell off of a swing and sprained his wrist when he was four. Those feelings aren’t coming up because you’re responsible for what happened. It’s because your kid got hurt and you realized you can’t always be there to protect him.” Eddie pauses. “Parenthood is crazy. It’s ups and downs and the highest highs and the lowest lows. This is your first real taste of the lows.”

Buck’s heart soars, thinking about what Eddie’s just said. Hearing it out loud, it all makes sense. “But I’m not his dad,” he says. 

“No,” Eddie agrees. “But you’re his Bucky.” 

Buck half-laughs, half-sobs at that. “Yeah, I guess I am.” He takes a long, shaky breath. He wonders how he could have ever been so stupid to do this. “Eddie, I’m sorry.”

“I know.” The silence between them is comfortable.  “So are you done?” Eddie asks after a minute. 

“Done what?”

“Being an idiot,” Eddie says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the word. “A caring, selfless, self-sacrificing idiot who I love with my entire heart,” he clarifies. “But an idiot nonetheless.”

There’s a pause, and Eddie doesn’t have to be in the room with him to know Buck is fighting a grin. He can hear it in his voice when he says, “Yeah, I guess.” 

“Good,” Eddie says. “Y’know, Chris thinks you’re mad at him. He asked for you all day and night. And then he told me I did a bad job with the voices tonight. So really, we’re falling apart without you.” 

“He what?” Buck sits up straighter. Christopher thinks he’s mad? His stomach lurches. “Is he still up?”

“Yeah, I think so. You want to talk to him?” 

Buck can’t say yes fast enough. A moment later, he’s greeted by a sleepy voice. “Bucky?”

“Hey, bud,” he says, unprepared for the wave of emotion that overcomes him at the sound of Christopher’s voice. 

“Are you mad at me?” 

“What?” Buck asks incredulously. “No way,” he insists. “I could never  _ ever  _ be mad at you. Not in a million years.”

“My dad was sad today.”

“I was sad too, today,” Buck admits. “But it’s all good now.” 

“Does that mean you can read me a chapter? Dad tried but he didn’t do the voices the right way.” 

Buck’s poor, poor heart. It’s had a workout of its own today, lurching and dropping and flipping and squeezing left and right. “There’s nothing I’d like more,” Buck says honestly. He turns, grabbing his copy from the night stand.  “Wait a sec,” he says. “I have a better idea. Can you put your dad back on for a sec, buddy?” 

Which is how, a half hour later, Christopher is sandwiched between his dad and his Bucky in the master bed of the White House. Buck and Eddie each have a hand on the book, holding it between them in front of Christopher as they take turns reading. 

Chris and Buck only have to stop Eddie twice to remind him about the accents. And, because that kid could ask them to move a mountain with their bare hands and they’d find a way to do it, when Chris asks for a second chapter, Buck and Eddie don’t even have to share a look before they’re flipping the page and starting to read. 

Despite the promises to stay awake Christopher had made when asking for one more chapter, he’s asleep by the third page. 

Eddie carries him to the bedroom across the hall, tucking him in and pressing a kiss to his forehead. Buck places a hand on Eddie’s shoulder from where he stands behind him. “Sorry I broke us,” he says. 

“You didn’t,” Eddie says, placing his hand on top of Buck’s. “We’re still us. Five second rule.”

Later, Eddie’s face is buried in the mattress– Buck’s knees on either side of his hips as he kisses a line down his spine- when Buck murmurs “Stay,” against his neck. 

“Yeah, I wasn’t gonna wake him,” Eddie replies, letting his eyes flutter shut as Buck makes his way south. “We can sneak out early.” His voice is muffled by the mattress.

Buck shakes his head. He presses a kiss to Eddies’ hip. “Not tonight. Forever.” 

Eddie freezes. He turns his head, raising up on an elbow so he can meet Buck’s eyes with his own, his heart pounding in his chest. He doesn’t have to think before saying, “Okay.” It comes out more as a breath than a fully spoken word, but Buck doesn’t miss it. 

“Okay?” he confirms. 

Eddie can’t keep the grin off his face. He nods, rolling over so they’re face to face. “Okay.” 

Buck surges forward, taking Eddie’s lips in his own. Everything from the last 24 hours slips away when their lips meet. All the anxiety, the fear, the guilt and sadness and anger. It’s gone in an instant, nothing but butterflies left in its wake. 

“I love you,” Eddie says against Buck’s lips. “Always.”

“I love you, too.” Buck’s thumb ghosts over Eddie’s lower lip. Holding Eddie’s face in his hands, their breath mingling in the space between their lips, hearts beating as one, he thinks about how this is his favorite place to be. “Forever.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will be the last! it's going to jump ahead and be an epilogue of sorts. going back to do some one shots once i wrap this up, so leave me any prompts you have! :)


	6. to come home, to be brave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an epilogue of sorts 
> 
> ps- sorry this last chapter took forever and a day, forgive me!!

“My birthday gift involves pressure-treated lumber?” Buck calls out. He’s got his elbows resting on the open window frame, his head sticking out, eyes squinting as he looks out into the bright sunlight. 

“Yep,” Eddie calls back from the driveway. He’s standing in the bed of his truck, passing materials to Bobby.

“You’re sure this is gonna be the best gift ever?” Buck asks, reminding Eddie of his promise when he banned Buck from coming into the garage all day. 

“Hundred percent, babe.”

“And you’re sure it’s nothing I can help with?”

“Close the window.” 

Buck pouts. “But then I won’t be able to spy on you.”

“You want to ruin your birthday surprise?” 

“Not really,” Buck replies. “But the tradeoff is getting to see you use a drill with your shirt off. Not to mention that tool belt. And I’m all about that.” 

“I’ll bring the tool belt upstairs tonight if you close that window,” Eddie says, eyes mischievous. 

“That’s enough,” Bobby calls from the garage, where he’s stacked up the wood Eddie’s been passing him.

Buck and Eddie ignore him. Buck leans further out the window. “Promise?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Promise. But only if you close the window.”

“Fine,” Buck replies, the word long and drawn out. “But only because you’re a man of your word.” 

Eddie blows him a kiss before turning back to where Bobby’s carrying the rest of the wood from the truck bed to the pile in the garage a few feet away. He hops out of the truck bed and heads into the garage, closing the doors behind him. 

“Thanks again for doing this, Bobby.” 

“Of course,” Bobby replies, firing up the saw. “You know I wouldn’t miss this for anything. Buck’s nagging and all.” 

Eddie glances through one of the windows back at the house, where Buck has since shut the window, but is still suspiciously close to the glass.

“Forbidding him to help with this may have been more trouble than it’s worth,” Eddie says over the whir of the saw. It took them a year to settle on upstate New York and find the perfect plot of land, and another year to build the house from the ground up. Buck and Eddie took every opportunity they had to head upstate and work on the house, eager to do as much as they could despite being spread thin with the final year of Buck’s presidency. 

Despite the final months of his presidency being some of his busiest, what with trying to get as much done as possible before leaving office, Buck threw himself into the construction of the house. He took daily calls with the builders in between meetings, flipped through paint swatches in the back of the presidential motorcade, and scrolled through web pages of appliances in bed beside Eddie each night. 

Eddie suspected Buck’s insistence on being a part of every house decision was his way of keeping his focus off of having to say goodbye to the presidency. On the days when Eddie could tell the dark cloud was looming not too far away, he’d pull up pictures of kitchen cabinets or dresser drawer pulls, and ask Buck which he preferred. The light always came back into his eyes when the dream house was the topic of conversation.

Glancing over at it now, Eddie takes in the sight of the house. Two stories of French limestone, with big white windows and a jet-black roof. He’ll never forget the week they spent up here over Christmas, just a few weeks before the end of Buck’s term. It was the first time they saw it fully built, the exterior finished save for the wreath they had brought up from D.C. (Christopher had helped pick it out, and Buck would be damned if it wasn’t the first personal touch to grace the house.) There was a foot of snow on the ground, but it didn’t stop Buck from leaping out of the car before it was in park, running across the snow-covered lawn. Eddie wasn’t far behind him, jogging through the snow and stepping into his outstretched arm as they stared up at their home in awe. _Their home._

Their vision had become a reality, and here it was, all three acres and five thousand square feet of it, with snow dusting the roof and sticking to the newly-installed windows in what Buck had later described as "a Hallmark movie director's wet dream."

Eddie had pressed a kiss to Buck’s temple as they looked across the snow-covered lawn at their future. “Welcome home, Mr. President.” 

“It’s a house today,” Buck replied. “It'll be home tomorrow when Chris gets here.” 

Eddie looks away from the house and back at Bobby. “Took us a year to get this house built and I don’t think there was a single thing he didn’t help with. This must be killing him.” 

“It’s his birthday gift,” Bobby points out. “He can’t help build his own birthday gift.” 

“True,” Eddie agrees. He grabs another plank of wood from Bobby’s outstretched hands. 

When Eddie asked everyone up to the house to surprise Buck for his birthday – his first as a civilian in 8 years– they all agreed without hesitation. They’d been looking forward to it all month. 

When Eddie realized he was going to need some help pulling it all off, he asked Bobby to come up a day earlier than everyone else. As far as Buck knew, Bobby was only in town for the night to help Eddie with his birthday gift, and Athena and the kids were visiting her parents and couldn’t join him. 

Eddie had climbed into bed one night a couple weeks back, only to find Buck watching some video of a couple building a bar in their backyard from wood pallets and two by fours.

_“I could do this if my nail gun privileges were reinstated,” Buck had said. “Just saying.”_

_Eddie had laughed at that. “Over my dead body.”_

_“Eddie,” Buck whined._

_“You shot yourself in the thigh,” Eddie said, thinking back to last summer’s incident. “Lest we forget.”_

_“It was an accident.”_

_“And the foot?” Eddie had asked._

_“That one bounced off my boot, doesn’t count,” he protested. Thank fuck for steel-toed boots. “Turns out the trigger on that thing is really sensitive.”_

_Eddie shook his head. There was no way he was giving in on this one, no matter how much Buck decided to pout. “Not once, but twice now you’ve accidentally fired an industrial nail gun straight at your body.”_

_“That you know of,” Buck had mumbled._

_“How many times?” Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Hmm?”_

_“So no nail gun,” Buck had said in response, declining the opportunity to incriminate himself with the real number. He put the iPad on the nightstand and leaned over, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s cheek. “Deal.”_

Eddie had waited until Buck was fast asleep beside him before he swiped his iPad and sent himself the link to that video. The next morning, he forwarded it to Bobby and they started planning. 

Now, the bar coming to life before their eyes in the garage, Eddie’s heart beats faster with each passing minute, anticipation all but eating him alive. He can’t wait for Buck to see it, almost as much as he can’t wait to see his face when everyone he loves most in the world jumps out from behind it. 

The following morning, Eddie’s up before the sun. He can’t sleep, too much restless energy coursing through him as he thinks about what’s to come later in the day. When Christopher wakes up, Eddie helps him pour a bowl of cereal at the kitchen counter. 

“So, I was hoping you could help me with Buck’s birthday gift?” Eddie asks, taking a sip of coffee. 

Christopher nods eagerly. Despite being just a few weeks away from turning fourteen, his eyes light up with excitement just as they did when he was nine years old and Buck would call at bedtime to read to him. 

He fills him in on everything, swearing his son to secrecy. “Your job is to keep him busy when I tell you, okay? He can’t come outside or look out the window until I come back in and get you guys. Think you’re up for the mission?” 

“Yeah,” Chris nods, grinning. “You can count on me.”

Eddie reaches across the counter and ruffles the hair on top of his head. “I knew I could.”

Bobby and Eddie carry the finished bar out from the garage and stock it while Christopher distracts Buck inside with a round of Mario Kart. Buck’s pout at Eddie’s insistence of a blindfold is quickly replaced with the biggest smile Eddie’s ever seen when he tugs it down and sees the bar. 

“You didn’t!” he shouts, giddy as a kid on Christmas morning. He hurries down the deck steps to get a better look at it, which is when everyone jumps out from behind it. 

Buck freezes, taking in the sight. Hen, Karen, Denny, Maddie, Chimney, Bobby, Athena, May, Harry and Michael are standing before him, hands in the air and wide smiles on their faces as they shout “Surprise!”

When the world catches back up to him and he realizes what’s happening, his knees almost give out beneath him. Eddie’s arm around his waist is the only thing keeping him from melting into a puddle in the grass. 

“Go get em,” Eddie says, nudging Buck forward. That little push is all he needs before he’s closing the distance, engulfed in a never-ending chain of hugs. When he finds his way back to Eddie’s side, his eyes are wet. “I can’t believe you did this for me,” he says. 

“Happy birthday, baby,” Eddie whispers. 

Later that night, once everyone else in the house is fast asleep and Eddie’s made good on his tool belt promise from the other day, Buck rubs absentminded circles into Eddie’s back. “Penny for your thoughts,” Eddie says after a few minutes.

Buck smiles sadly. “Thinking about our last night in the White House.” 

_“This is where we fell in love,” Buck had whispered, tears in his eyes. “What if I’m not ready to say goodbye?”_

_Eddie had nodded, squeezing Buck’s hand three times. “Yeah,” he said. “We fell in love here. We also fell in love in a campaign bus, and in my apartment, and in the back of the motorcade, and everywhere we went in between.”_

_“Eddie,” Buck’s voice cracked._

_Eddie had leaned over, pressing a kiss to Buck’s forehead. “I fall in love with you all over again every day. The four walls around us have nothing to do with that. Home is wherever I’m with you.”_

“You miss it?” Eddie asks. 

Buck nods. “Yeah, sometimes. Do you?”

“Yeah,” Eddie admits. “Some mornings before I open my eyes I still think we’re there. Then, I open my eyes and I’m not in the bed where dozens of other presidents have banged and I say a prayer of thanks.” 

Buck shoves him playfully. “They change the mattress out!”  
“Doesn’t matter,” Eddie replies. “That bed frame has seen some shit. If mahogany could talk–”

“It would say President Buckley had the hottest sex by far,” Buck finishes his sentence with a wink. 

Eddie laughs, rolling over to drop a kiss to Buck’s lips. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Buck nods, lacing his fingers with Eddie’s and bringing them up to rest above their heads. 

“Hmm,” Eddie murmurs, his knees on either side of Buck’s hips as he straddles him. He licks into Buck’s mouth, the slow, tender kiss from before turning filthy in an instant. Buck all but growls, arching up in an attempt to chase down as much of Eddie as he can. 

Eddie’s voice is low, just barely above a whisper as his breath ghosts over Buck’s skin. “And what do you think this bed would say?”

“Let’s get married tomorrow.” The words are out of Buck’s mouth before his brain has a chance to catch up. They’d been talking about getting married for a while now, but the house had taken priority and neither of them felt like there was any rush to have a piece of paper say what’s already been printed on their hearts for the last ten years. 

But now, with Buck’s suggestion hanging in the air between them, it seems like the greatest idea either of them have ever had. Eddie grins against Buck’s lips. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.” 

“I’m serious.” 

“Me, too.” 

Buck leans forward, coming to rest on his elbows as Eddie sits back on his heels. He almost regrets interrupting what was bound to be some incredible sex. Almost. “Tomorrow? You’re sure?”

“Babe,” Eddie says, running a hand through Buck’s hair. “I’ve been thinking about being your husband since the day I met you.” 

Buck surges forward, taking Eddie’s lips in his. “That makes two of us. We could get married yesterday and it wouldn’t be soon enough. ”

“Everyone's gonna freak,” Eddie says with a laugh. 

Buck grins. “All the more reason, no?”

It’s pretty perfect, Eddie thinks. Everyone they care about is here, they’ve got a fully stocked bar and a set of outdoor speakers that Buck hooked up on the deck last weekend. He was planning on a birthday party anyway, so most of the leg work was already done. There’s a long table and a set of folding chairs waiting in the garage, and Eddie already ordered catering from Buck’s favorite restaurant for dinner. No wedding planning, no press and media attention, no strategic security plans and no stress. Just a perfect day, surrounded by their favorite people, in the place they love more than anything. He drops a kiss to Buck’s shoulder. “Tomorrow can’t come fast enough.” 

When Buck and Eddie stood up at breakfast and announced they were getting married in the backyard before dinner, the room erupted. It had been one big flurry of excitement since– the kids picked flowers and filled vases, Buck and Eddie drove into town to buy rings, Maddie got ordained online. And now here they are, standing before the people they love more than anything, the sun starting to set over the Catskill Mountains behind them, not a dry eye in sight.

“Do you, Evan, promise to love Eddie, for better or for worse?” 

“Always,” Buck murmurs, running his thumbs over Eddie’s knuckles. He’s never been more sure of anything. 

“And do you, Eddie, promise to love Evan, for better or for worse?”  
Eddie lets out a shaky breath, voice thick with emotion as he says, “Forever.” 

Maddie is beaming. “I now pronounce–”

Buck can’t wait. He takes Eddie’s face in his hands, nerve endings crackling to life as their lips meet.

Their song crackles over the speakers, the backyard coming to life as their small crowd of on-lookers rise to their feet, cheering on the newlyweds.

_I love you always forever_

_Near and far, closer together_

_Everywhere I will be with you_

_Everything I will do for you_

They eat and drink and dance and laugh until the sun’s long since gone down, nothing but the string lights woven between the beams on the back deck left to glint off of the silver band on Buck’s finger. He can’t stop staring at it, can’t stop flexing his fingers and relishing in the weight of it. It can’t be more than a few ounces, but it’s grounding in ways Buck never knew possible. 

“Bucky?” Christopher says from his bed, a few hours later. Buck’s chest squeezes. It just might be his favorite word in the world, especially since there’s only one person in his life who says it. Sure, Chris is nearly fourteen now and is rapidly out-growing most everything else from his childhood. The fact that he still uses his special nickname for Buck without any hesitation makes Buck’s chest feel warm. 

Buck and Eddie had poked their heads in to say goodnight and switch off the lights. Buck takes a step forward, away from the door frame and into the room. “Yeah?” He takes a seat on the corner of Christopher’s bed, pulling the blankets up to his chin affectionately. 

“I always wished on my candles that you’d be my dad. It’s your birthday but my wish is the one that came true.” 

“Nah,” Buck says, leaning in close as if he’s about to let Christopher in on a huge secret. Eddie chokes on a sob when his husband looks their son in the eye, runs his knuckles over his cheek, and whispers, “That was my wish, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you thank you thank you for reading and following along!!  
> i'm going to work on some one shots and prompt fills next, so please leave me a comment and let me know if you have a prompt or anything you want to see!


End file.
